The Worst Three Months
by buttercupgalaxy
Summary: Dean is determined to find out what is troubling Sam.Set as missing end scenes from MS. Not a very good summary I know - sorry **SPOILERS FOR MYSTERY SPOT


Dean pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator, trying to put as many miles as he could between his brother and ... He stole a glance to his right and noticed his brother still held the same vacant expression as he had when they left. His eyes were bright, as though full of unshed tears, his jaw set, yet, his shoulders slumped, Sam stared out of the window at the featureless countryside speeding by, though he seemed not to take in any of it. Dean couldn't blame him though. Sam had watched his brother die hundreds of times, and he could not begin to comprehend how much that must have hurt. Dean had lost Sam only once, but the pain of watching the light leave Sam's eyes that night at Cold Oak had never left him. To watch his brother die countless times and know that there was no way to save him would've sent Dean over the edge he was sure he would not have been able to return from.

But he always thought he knew his brother. Hell, raising someone and spending nearly all your life at their side gave you that right. And he would've bet anything he had that the whole situation would've spurred Sam's attempts to rid him from the deal. The car felt silent without the steady tap of Sam's fingers on the laptop keys, or the flipping of endless pages of books borrowed from Bobby and those more permanently borrowed from libraries across the country, as Sam scoured every source for a loop in the contract. But instead, Sam sat still and lifeless, the fight dulled from his eyes, as though he had given up and left Dean to his fate. This was not Sam, however; and Dean knew something was severely wrong, and he planned on finding out exactly what that was.

Dean saw a sign up ahead, 'Sleeper's Inn'. _Good a place as any,_ he thought.

'What do say we call it a night, huh Sam?' He turned his head briefly to his motionless brother, noticing his eyes were red rimmed and slightly puffy. 'Sam?' he tried again when he received no answer.

'Hmm, sure,' Sam breathed, never turning to face his brother. _Definitely gotta find out what's wrong, _thought Dean, _ah crap, that's chick flick moment if I ever did see one. _

The last 10miles of the journey were spent in silence, the rumble of the engine and Dean's stomach the only sound to be heard within the metal shell of the Impala. Dean pulled the car to a stop in the gravel car park and cut the V8. Without bothering to inform Sam, he wasn't sure Sam even knew they had stopped, he wrenched open the door and headed to reception in search of a room. He returned 5 minutes later and headed straight for the boot [trunk and grabbed his and Sam's duffels, and one of the weapons bags, placed them just inside the room before moving towards the passenger door and his brother.

He rapped his knuckles on the window, and had to stifle a chuckle at how high his brother jumped in his seat. This quickly turned to look of worry when his brother's face filled with panic, until the brothers' eyes connected. Sam visibly let out a long breath and moved to open the door, his movements sluggish and tired. Dean stepped back as the door squeaked open and Sam untangled his long limbs from under the dash and stretched out his tall body.

If Dean had blinked he would've missed the slight flick of Sam's to his chest, right where his heart lay under his ribcage. He knew Sam was hiding something from him, he just couldn't figure out what it was yet.

'Dinner?' he asked, a smirk on his face and an eyebrow cocked.

'Nah man,' Sam replied, a faint frown gracing his features. 'I just wanna hit the sack.'

'Yeah, maybe you're right, been a long day.' Dean didn't want to leave Sam alone tonight, his brother needed him and by God he was not gonna let him down now. _I'm sure there's a bag of peanut M n Ms in the car somewhere._

S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S

Sam smiled; it had been too long since he fell asleep with his brother by his side. He had watched Dean die in ways he had never imagined possible, lived through the moment he felt his own heart stop in line with his brother's, the moment when any life and hope lift his soul and vanished into the ether. Then he had lived through 3 months without his brother. The 3 worst months of his life. He had been numb, dead to anyone around him and devoid of any emotion apart from the never ending despair which hung in his heart every day, widening the pit of hopelessness and loneliness in his soul.

The motel room was clean and warm, all that the brothers were looking for right now. Though neither had been physically hurt in their last hunt, Dean knew Sam needed time to heal. They quickly showered and changed, sinking into their usual beds; Sam's the farthest from the door, putting Dean between him and any evil son of a bitch that dared enter their hotel room. Dean closed his eyes, his breath evening out almost as soon as he pulled the blankets up to his chin, a light snore almost immediately issuing from the young man. Sam, however, losing the struggle to fall asleep, finally gave in and instead lay on his side, his head propped up in his hand, watching Dean sleep.

He was bombarded with memories of Dean dying, one after another relentlessly. Each time he moved his gaze from Dean's face to check the steady rise and fall of Dean's chest. Sam knew that after watching Dean's eyes close for the final time so many times, he would have to check that his brother was only sleeping for many times to come. Suddenly he sat up, pushing the blankets aside and went to stand up. He needed to wake Dean. He needed to know that he could, that his brother really was just sleeping. But he stopped himself; his hands just inched from his brother's shoulders. No, if he woke Dean, he would need to explain why, and he did not want to have to relive his first Wednesday to Dean. It was better if he didn't know. He just wanted to forget, to wipe the memory from his brain.

He turned and made his way to the bathroom. Running the tap, he splashed cold water over his face, and then patted it dry with one of the rough towels hanging by the shower. He returned to the main room and sat on his bed, feet planted, elbows propped on his knees, his face supported in his cupped hands; eyes glued to Dean's sleeping form.

Dean, a hunter through and through had always slept with one eye open, so to speak. He could feel eyes on him, forcing himself from his slumber. His hand moving slowly for the bowie under his pillow, he tensed, then opened his eyes and sat up, in one fluid movement, only to be confronted with a friend, not foe, in the form of his little brother.

'Damn it Sam,' he let out an audible breath. 'What the hell are you doing up dude? Its like three in the morning.'

'I, ah' Sam stuttered, his eyes looking anywhere but at Dean. 'I couldn't sleep.' It was half of the truth, and he hoped Dean would buy it. Really, he just didn't want to let Dean out of his sight, not for a while at least.

'Well I suppose now is as good a time as any to be up. Who needs dawn and all that huh?' Dean smirked, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He swung his legs out of bed and trudged to the coffee machine, and poured two cups of the dark, steaming liquid. Walking back between the beds he handed one to Sam. _Its now or never, _he thought, and sat beside his brother, letting their shoulders and knees touch just gently.

'What's on your mind Sam?' he asked. 'And don't 'nothing' me,' he added when he saw Sam move to talk. Dean continued to study Sam. His eyes were staring into the depths of his coffee, his hands wrapped tightly around the mug, unsuccessfully trying to hide their slight trembling. Dean sat quietly, he knew not to push his brother; Sam was a talker, always had been, it just had to be on his own terms.

Sam took three deep breaths, letting each of them out slowly and carefully. His head bowed on the fourth breath, and Dean sat up slightly, he knew Sam was ready to talk. He knew what he wanted to say and now had the right words.

'Today wasn't my first Wednesday,' he said, so low Dean had to strain his ears to make out what Sam said. 'I've already lived today once.'

Dean's breath caught in his chest, he had been expecting a heart to heart, a ramble about how Sam would save him from the deal no matter what it took, so he could forget what the trickster had said. But not this. And definitely not what was to happen next.

'I was packing; we were getting ready to leave.' Sam paused.

'Sam, what happened?' Dean prompted, leaning in slightly to his brother, letting Sam know he was there. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming, but for Sam's benefit this needed to be out in the open.

'I thought it was finally over, you know? It was Wednesday, we could leave. But then,' Sam's voice wavered. 'I heard a gunshot, and after everything, I had to check.'

Dean saw the tears pool in Sam's eyes.

'I ran down the stairs and there you were. That Kell guy was running off, and you – you were,' Sam's breath caught and tremors wracked his form. 'There was so much blood. I held you, and I shook you but you wouldn't wake up. I wasn't waking up.' Sam thought back to that Wednesday all those months ago, holding Dean in his arms – his brother dead in his arms.

S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, praying to wake up again to Dean brushing his teeth. But nothing would change. He buried his face deep into his brother's shoulder. Emotions pouring from his heart, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. _Not today, no it's not supposed to happen today. The trickster said...the demon gave you a year. No! I'm not loosing you yet. _

Sam held his brother and rocked him gently for what felt like forever. He wanted his brother, no he _needed _his brother. He wasn't allowed to leave yet. It wasn't fair. Why was being a Winchester never fair?

S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S

'Sam.' Dean searched his brain for the right words to say. The right words to comfort his little brother. But there had been no words for him. Nothing Bobby had said had made a blind bit of difference when Dean lost Sam. How was anything he had to say now going to help his brother? 'I'm here now, though, Sam. You're not alone anymore. I'm not going anywhere.' Dean pleaded. He needed Sam to know he was there. He couldn't stand the look of fear and anguish in his brother's eyes. They were always so vibrant, so full of life, but now it was as if their flame had been snubbed out.

But Sam didn't seem to hear him. He was caught up in memories too painful to pull himself out of. His glassy eyes were dancing backwards and forwards, and Dean could tell he was agonizingly re-living his hell, trapped inside his head.

'Sam. Sam!' Dean tried harder, but to no avail.

'There was nothing I could do. I – I had to burn you. And I knew you were gone. You weren't coming back.' Sam's voice hitched and his breath stuttered as he tried to tell his story.

'Sam, it's OK now. You don't have to do this,' Dean implored. He was watching his brother breakdown, slowly in front of his eyes.

'But I do!' Sam yelled, jumping from the bed and stumbling blindly around the room. 'You don't understand Dean. You were _gone_. I was all alone. You were gone, you were gone, you were gone,' Sam continued his muttered mantra, his knees giving way. Dean leapt from the bed to catch his brother mid-fall, lowering him gently to the ground. He held his brother tightly in his arms, rocking him, rubbing soothing circles on his back, just as he did when they were younger and Sam was scared or upset.

It soon had the calming affect he had been hoping for. Sam growing quiet and his breaths become deep and even, the weary, young hunter finally giving in to sleep. Dean wondered how long it had been since Sam had slept properly, and as he sat, with his precious treasure tight in his embrace, a lone, silent tear made its way down his cheek. His heart was breaking in his chest as he thought of leaving his brother, when his time was up. He knew Sam would miss him, but he had hoped Sam would be strong enough to cope.

He was beginning to doubt it now though. How was he going to leave his brother alone in a world full of evil, with no one to protect him?

It was then he made up his mind. He couldn't give a damn what Ruby had said, he was gonna find a way out of the deal if he had to go through Lucifer himself to do it. His brother needed him, and he had always been there.

That night, sitting on the floor, holding his baby brother in his arms, he vowed to never leave his brother's side again. Ever.


End file.
